


Wake Me With A Kiss

by queenofworry



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Language, brian wants to write you a song, the boys are jetlagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofworry/pseuds/queenofworry
Summary: Brian comes home from tour while you're still asleep and knows just how to wake a sleeping beauty





	Wake Me With A Kiss

Brian lost track of the differences in the timezones a while back, and it was a bit bewildering to be honest. When he boarded the private flight back in the states, it was pretty late…or early? Oh who knows. It was dark, okay? He and boys were so homesick, they got on the first flight back to London as soon as the last concert in LA ended, and even though they were all exhausted, they were all also ready to see home sweet home again. Besides the fatigue, the one thing that sucked the most about traveling literally right after a gig is that they had to skip their post-show showers. Being up on stage was always so fun, it left them in a giddy daze, but it also left them smelling like a gym locker. The combo of layered costumes and hot stage lights often made them all work up a sweat in their own way. By the time he, Freddie, Roger and John got to their seats on the little plane, the adrenaline had worn way down; so far down that they could have easily been mistaken for drunk or stoned. The boys weren’t innocent in that kind scene either, but this time they didn’t need any of that stuff to calm down.

The whole time they sleepily sat in their seats, each of them babbled about how ready they were for a little break. About how they each missed their girls waiting for them back home. It’d be nice to have some quiet time with their loved ones, away from the crowds, the arenas, the paparazzi (for the most part.) They’d have at least a month off and then back to the old grind to make more award winning tracks.

“Veronica’s not going to let me out of her sight in the slightest.” John chuckled.

“She’s got you whipped, huh?” Roger asked.

“Guess so.” The bassist replied. “She’s a little clingy, but she’s a sweet girl so it’s impossible to get upset with her.”

“She doesn’t give you anything to get mad about does she?”

“No not all. If anything, she’s so perfect it always makes me look like the unstable one.”

“No wonder you need us,” joked Freddie “You need someone to call you the voice of reason, and you found three of us.”

“Piss off.” Chuckled John, as he whacked Freddie’s arm with a magazine. Their lead singer happily sighed at the reaction and took a puff of his cigarette to unwind a bit more.

And soon he even admitted the homesickness that afflicted him too.

“I myself am quite looking forward to seeing Mary and the cats again. I’m sure they’re absolutely bored without me there. I’ve missed them so much that I’ve been writing her and all the cats individual letters each.”

That didn’t really surprise the rest of them but gained a silly reaction regardless. He always really was the crazy cat lady of them all.

“Oh Fred, you really do have a problem. You’re mad!” Laughed Brian.

“Mad people are just misunderstood geniuses, Darling, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Well you are living proof.”

During this chatter, John soon felt a bit restless and decided to kick off his shoes for the remainder of the flight; may as well get comfortable since they weren’t scheduled to land for hours.

“What about you, Brian?” John asked, looking to from his magazine every few seconds “I’m sure you’re dying to get back to (Y/N).”

Brian’s response came through as a smile and slight blush. Yes, he missed his girl more than anything; she was the most wonderful human being in existence and she loved him out of all people. It made him feel wrong for leaving her while he toured. Each night when away, he imagined what she could have been doing at the moment while waiting for him to get back. Poor thing, all alone in that flat with no one to talk to, eat with, kiss goodnight or good morning…Oh don’t misunderstand, she had friends and family, but it just wasn’t the same to her between them and Brian.

“One hundred percent true. It’s been absolute torture only getting to talk to her on the phone all tour long. No getting to come home at the end of the day and sit on the couch while watching the telly; no her peering over my shoulder while I write music—”

“Woah there, Romeo, lovesick much?” Roger teased. He wasn’t used to seeing Brian so homesick for someone so badly before. (Y/N) must have really meant something special to him.

“We all know her pretty well, I guess I’m just shocked I didn’t realize the impact she had on you. Sounds like she was angel sent directly into your life.” Freddie mentioned.

“How have you not written a song about her yet?”

Brian often kicked himself for it. Everyone in Queen had the talent to write a good song, including him, but for some reason he just couldn’t seem to find the right words to describe how much he loved her. Mary had Love of my Life, so why couldn’t (Y/N) have a love song to call her own?

Right now, all he could think about was her. Checking his watch, his tired mind tried to do the math and figure out what she’d be doing at this moment. Probably asleep on the couch with the tv on; she liked staying up late all the time. She loved the night so much that Brian would often have to convince her to come to bed with him at 2:00 in the morning since she could be stubborn when it came to getting her rest. Although it wasn’t a complete battle. With him being an accomplished musician, all he had to do was sing a bit and she was out like a light. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that she was doing that on purpose to get a lullaby with no argument from him. Hmm. Sneaky little minx, that one.

“Well you’ll think of something, mate. You always do.”

Roger assured, leaning back in his seat. The rest of the boys followed his example. It was late, they were tired and had a long flight ahead. There was no way they’d get any proper or comfy sleep in the air, but they could always go back to sleep at home. Each of them used one of their jackets to cover up, while the plane supplied them with pillows. Brian may have been reclined, but not asleep just yet. The little shade by his window had been left open, and the plane’s seemingly sluggish rate made the stars look like dazzling little sequins on the night’s evening gown. He’d always been fascinated with the stars for as long as he could remember actually, and why not? They’re beautiful. He soon found himself even imagining them building a long path to follow back home to you; a bright and twinkling road above the land. If he could walk on that, it would take him home in no time. Tiredly sighing, he nestled the side of his face into his pillow and drifted off thinking about you.

“Better be in bed, missy.” He mumbled.

=============================

London, England

3:00 am

Just as he feared, you were still stirring. Brian wasn’t here to tell you to come to bed or stop exhausting yourself every night. Staying awake was an art and drug all on it’s own, but it sucked sitting in the dark with the tv playing all by yourself. Oh did you ever miss those long lank arms around your shoulders, and feeling of those floofy curls against the back of your neck when he held you close. But some good did come out of boredly flipping through the channels in the wee hours of the morning—reruns. You hadn’t flipped that far through the channels when you caught half a second of some familiar faces: the boys, and more specifically, your boy.

It seemed as though a rerun from one of Queen’s earlier concerts had been set to play late at night for some random entertainment. Judging by their haircuts, it looked like a performance from last year, although Brian’s hair never actually changed. They looked as if they were having a really good time and possibly enjoying themselves more than the audience. But that was Queen for you; never a dull show. Freddie was always so confident, it always turned the event into a big party. Roger got the crowd stirred up with his drumming, John got people to move with his little disco shuffles he did. And Brian—oh Brian, the way he made that guitar shriek! Never once was a solo by him mediocre or boring. He would be home soon enough, but this was a nice little treat getting a glimpse of his pretty self in his element: a tall beanpole of a man, rocking out with his best buddies as they all donned some glam rock outfits that you’d kill to own.

“That’s my man.” You smiled, curling your blanket around you more “Hope you’re sleeping alright, Honey.”

When Freddie said his goodbyes to the audience, the cameraman had scanned his large camera across all the guys waving to the viewers at home, and your heart happily swelled when Brian’s goodbye was blowing a kiss (obviously to you). Some boring program followed suit, and that was a good enough signal to turn in. Taking your blanket with you, you toppled onto the bed’s quilt and rolled up like a sushi, sighing in drowsiness as the pillow hugged your sleepy head.

Oh damn. Tired, but not ready to sleep.

You just missed him so much, it was hurting. If he was here, there’d be no hope in staying awake. That mellow voice of his could put anyone or anything to sleep in no time, even the night owls. The lack of his voice and embrace just caused you to toss and turn, waiting to pass out, but nothing worked. Just then, you remembered: there was a record player and a crate of Queen vinyls across the room. Sure it was a rock n roll album, but after adjusting the volume, and snuggling back into bed, you soon drifted off to Love Of My Life.

London, England

6:45 am

Brian was practically brain dead when he unlocked the front door. Luggage, long legs and all stumbled into the living room as he sleepily overlooked the place. Not much of a mess. Couch cushions askew, a half empty mug on the coffee table, and the telly remote lying at the end of the sofa arm, which could only mean one thing; you did it again, didn’t you? Stayed up all bloody night. Brian shook his head with an exasperated smile on his face. You were who you were, and if that was a wired night owl, well at least you were his word night owl. But if he couldn’t find you in the living room, then that meant you were finally in bed, out like a light. Boy did that sound good right about now…passed out in bed. Too tired to care about his personal things at the moment, the guitarist tossed his bags in the front closet since there would be plenty of time to unpack later.

Walking into your shared bedroom, Brian found exactly what he had needed since leaving a month ago: you. His little owl lying passed out cold and swallowed up by the bedding. Your chest’s rise and fall was so slow and calm, it was like watching a living piece of art breathe. He was about to climb in with you, but an odd sight to his left caught his attention. It was the record player; vinyl still seated in place, needle suspended ever so slightly above it. You were usually pretty good at putting albums away when done, so either you were extremely distracted or busy when you put this on. The colorful sleeve lay idly on the bedroom carpet and piqued his interest. Picking it up, he smiled at the familiar explosion of colors and zodiacs on the cover, along with the bold blue letters reading A Night At The Opera. Shifting his gaze towards your sleeping form again, it’s when his brilliant mind completed the puzzle of how lonely you were last night. Quietly, Brian removed the vinyl and placed it back where it belonged, and sat at the edge of the mattress. Your soft messy locks had covered your face from tossing and turning last night, so naturally, he had to fix that. His fingertips gingerly brushed the hair off your face, and caressed your jawline. The unconscious reaction of you wiggling your nose and sleepily moaning a bit urged him to gently lean in and place his lips to yours.

Over and over again, gently as possible, Brian repeated his kisses to your mouth. But he may have gone a bit overboard after a minute, since he didn’t even realize the kisses went from your mouth, to your cheek and temple; that’s what seemed to get the best reaction. He leaned away as you stirred and fluttered your eyes open; what the–? Who was that? For a sec, you thought it was an intruder and jolted, but when the eye clouds went away, the wonderful sight of a cluster of dark curls came into view and created this huge smile on your face.

“Morning.” He whispered. The excitement of Brian here caused you to spring into a sitting position and wrap both arms tightly around his neck. It couldn’t get any more reassuring this was no dream when his hands rubbed your back and he laughed into your shoulder. Kissing each other good morning seemed to alternate in turns as the kissing exchanges bounced off each other’s cheeks and lips.

“When did you get in?” You asked

“Just now actually; I’m exhausted, and want nothing more than to pull you into my chest and hide under the covers. But I must ask…A Night At The Opera?” He motioned to the now dormant record player.

“Well I missed you. Couldn’t think of any better way to imagine you here, other than the rerun of course.”

“Rerun?”

“Yeah. I was up late again and saw the TV play a rerun from your tour last year. It was great seeing your pretty face again.”

“Yours too. What time you go to bed?”

“3:00 am.” You nervously replied.

“Oh, (Y/N). What am I gonna do with you?”

“How about sleep until summer?”

He looked fond of the idea.

“Now that I can manage.”

Both you two recklessly crawled back under the quilt and locked arms around each other. Foreheads pressed, and bodies cozy, it felt like a life goal had just been achieved with this moment. Had the bed always been this comfy? Maybe it was the company in this case, because after one long month of rolling over in the morning to an empty spot, and that spot being occupied now, it was perfect.

“Oh by the way,” yawned Brian, “I think I have a song in mind for you.”

“What?”

“A special song is in the works. After enjoying the view on the ride home, I got some lyrics for your theme song. How do you feel about wearing a gown made from the night sky, with stars as your sequins and the moon as your crown?”

“It sounds beautiful Brian. This gorgeous song just for me?”

“Just for you. I’m naming it after a woman in the stars since you insist on living only when the moon’s up.”

“Good idea.”

“I thought it was. Now go to sleep, Asteria.”

THE END


End file.
